AN ISLESMAN'S FAREWELL.

Ah! must we part, my darling?

O let the days be few,

Until your dear returning

To one who loves but you!

Where'er your ship be sailing,

Think on your own love true;

The back of the wave to you, darling,

The back of the wave to you!

The witch, who oft at midnight

Above Ben Caillach flew,

Told me she dreamed no danger

Athwart your vessel drew;

For you she said the breezes

Aye strong and fairly blew;

The back of the wave to you, darling,

The back of the wave to you!

Ah! waiting here, and trembling

When dark the water's hue,

I'll long for the dear pleasure

That in your glance I knew;

And pray to Him who never

Can lose you from His view.

The back of the wave to you, darling,

The back of the wave to you.